


Four In The Morning

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker has some serious ideas about what happens at four in the morning. Maybe he's right. Maybe he's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> For the Alternate Universes Bonus Round of RVBSJ 2014.

Nothing good comes of four in the morning.

Tucker's mother used to say that all the time.

Nothing good had come of four in the morning when he was eight and there was a sleep over and one of the other little boys had gotten sick and had to go home, ruining his birthday party. Nothing good had come of four in the morning when his Aunt had come over drunk after a bar crawl in need of a place to crash, and not only broke his mother's favorite vase and stole the savings his mother had hidden taped to the underside of the piano lid.

It had been four twenty-nine in the morning when they got the call that his father was never coming home.

He'd always had a rule.

Nothing good comes out of four in the morning.

If he woke up in the middle of the night after a hook-up, or was lingering after, or for some reason he was at someone's place that he didn't know or trust and he looked up to find it was four in the morning, he got up, put himself together and headed out. If he was with a friend, he just laid there on their couch until five in the morning hit. Anything to make it harder for the cursed hour to find him and inflict its terrors upon him.

This was different. This, Tucker found, was four am and him actively staying. Him wrapping his arms around the larger, more muscular form of the man he had only met as 'Wash,' hands smoothing down his back as he whispers soft nonsense into the other man's ear. Holds him and whispers to him and hopes it will be enough for the nightmares that have left a shivering, shaking wreck before him.

By the time Wash calms down enough to open his eyes and talk it's well past five and Tucker sees the relief and gratitude in those eyes and he has to wonder.

Maybe once, just once, something good could come of that time. Something so good and so amazing that, well, all the other bad luck is just trying to even out the amazing fortune of the peace in those soft gray eyes as they close and Wash drifts away into what Tucker hopes is dreamless sleep.


End file.
